New World
by heathethanoshkosh
Summary: William and Jocelyn get married and have a daughter. She takes after William. Unrequited love........Hard to summarize just read it. :)
1. Default Chapter

New World  
  
  
  
"Get back here! Give it back!" a boy's voice rang out through the walls of the Thatcher mansion as he chased down a girl with curly, waist length brown hair. He chased her into the kitchen and out into the living room, down into the study and the library.  
  
"You can't catch me, you can't catch me!" She taunted running up a stairway grasping a pouch in her hand followed closely by the brown haired boy. She couldn't have been more than nine and the boy a year older. Glancing behind her she saw that he was catching up and she ran full speed ahead into a room.  
  
"Eliza give it back!" he cried angrily charging ahead, increasing his speed drastically.  
  
"Mother, Mother save me!" the little girl Eliza screamed running past a tall beauty and then sliding behind her hiding in her skirts. Lady Jocelyn Thatcher stared at the seething boy and glanced behind her at the curly brown head buried in her dress. She had long grown accustomed to him and her daughter's rivalries.  
  
"Conor." She tried. Just then Eliza's head peeped out from behind her mother and she stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
"I'm going to rip your hair out!" He screamed as he flew across the room to capture her and was no doubt about to tackle her to the floor when a strong but gentle hand grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him off of the ground. His eyes widened and he looked up to see his master, Sir William Thatcher staring down at him.  
  
"Conor where are you supposed to be?" he asked firmly.  
  
"In the stables helping Kate." The boy replied timidly.  
  
"And why aren't you there?"  
  
"Because somebody stole my pouch and she won't give me it back. Me mum gave it to me before she left me here. It's all I have sir." He said glowering at Eliza pointedly.  
  
"What did I tell you to do when she does that?"  
  
"But I tried that sir, and it didn't work!" the boy insisted.  
  
"And what makes you think that Eliza has it?"  
  
"Yes what makes you think that?" Eliza asked. William glared at her and she shrank back behind her mother.  
  
"Because you have it in your hand you infuriating hag!" The boy screamed back at her. William glared at her and she shrank back behind her mother. Jocelyn looked on thoroughly amused. Roland and Kate ran into the room heaving. They glared at the two children.  
  
"Is this so Eliza?" William asked glancing at them and then looking at his daughter. The brown eyed beauty scowled and handed him the pouch. The simple material and thick, course, thread made it obvious that a peasant had made it. He lowered the boy to the ground and the hotheaded lad turned and left the room with Kate behind him.  
  
"And where are you supposed to be?" he asked Eliza.  
  
"Doing needle work with Kristine."  
  
"And you're confiscating items which don't belong to you because?"  
  
"It's so boring father! I was beginning to lose feeling in my bum." She protested. And William glared at her. "Well I was." She said defensively.  
  
"Elizabeth-" he tried.  
  
"You should try doing that all day."  
  
"She does have a point there." Jocelyn said smiling.  
  
"You are not helping." William gritted at her and she sat down in a chair grinning and continued her embroidery. Then he turned back to his daughter.  
  
" I want to watch you practice jousting and sword fighting with Roland and Wat."  
  
"Yeah and you also want to go to banquet with your mother and I correct?"  
  
"Yes." She admitted grudgingly.  
  
"And if your going to do so you are going to need to learn how to be a lady."  
  
"But father-"  
  
"And becoming a lady requires learning how to sew. Your mother went through it, her mother went through it, and hell even Roland went through it so go, now."  
  
"But father!" she protested.  
  
"Elizabeth." He said firmly. "Must I tell you again." It wasn't a question and the child knew as much. Pouting adorably she walked out of the room. William looked at his wife and then stared at Roland.  
  
"Hell don't look at me she's your daughter." He said defensively and he exited the room.  
  
"I second that." Jocelyn said and William stared at her in shock.  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"Well darling you have to admit, she's as bull headed as you are." She said. William glared at her and then shaking his head he turned and left. Although he didn't want to admit it, Elizabeth was every bit her fathers child.  
  
"What have I done." He murmured under his breath. He had brought her up strangely, trying to balance tournament sports and lady like attributes. But being his daughter she preferred the tournament sports. She had the beauty and grace of her mother but the physical strength and bull headed attitude of her father. Being around Wat had made her argumentative and hotheaded. Conor had been brought to their door when he was only five and instantly he and Eliza had started butting heads. He was an incensed lad, stubborn, driven and freakishly strong for his age with a sharp tongue and a mind of his own. William had agreed to make him a squire but rarely treated him like one. He was more like a son to him, than anything else.  
  
"Confounded nuisance!" he heard Eliza shriek. He sighed and looked up at the heavens. Not already. He thought.  
  
"Conor!" he called as he headed down the hall. 


	2. The wild child and the broken arrow

Rain beat down on the roof of the stables from a gray unfriendly sky. Conor stood over a furnace, pounding away at horseshoes. His face devoid of emotion, covered in sweat, he pounded the horseshoe a little more then shoved it into a bucket of water. He watched the water sizzle the steam rise and then he threw it carelessly into a large pile of finished ones. He wiped his forehead with his wrist and without hesitation started on another. He wasn't a boy anymore, but a man of twenty-one. His thin body of adolescence, replaced by a lean, wiry one ladled with muscle. He had aged well, with a strong jawbone, slightly chiseled features and full mouth. His unkempt, dark brown hair reached his shoulders, and his green eyes were no longer the carefree orbs they once were. They were guarded, cold even. His disposition was that of a man who had been hit with disappointment and pain too many times for it to possibly make a difference anymore. He was dressed in long, lose, pants and a short sleeved shirt. Lightening flashed as he flung another into the pile. A horse snorted and he glanced up to see Eliza ride up, drenched and grinning. Her waist length hair hung about her in drenched clumps and her blue gown clung to her wet body. He shook his head and returned his attention to the horseshoes. She dismounted and led her jet-black stallion over to its stall removing its saddle and bridle. She walked up to him and wrung out her hair.  
  
"Hello." She said.  
  
"You're mad." He stated simply. She frowned playfully and releasing her hair, started on her gown.  
  
"Mad, how so?" she asked. He paused and stared at her, his expression showing little tolerance for games. Then he shoved the shoe into the bucket of water and sighed. The steam rose up, coiling about his head as he flung it into the pile. He ran a slightly scarred hand through his hair and continued his work.  
  
"To go riding in this." He said gesturing outside.  
  
"Oh and your one to talk. You went riding without a saddle or a bridle, racing through the market with Wat without a shirt on."  
  
"I'm a squire." He replied throwing the shoe into the pile almost angrily. His eyes flashed and he looked down at the furnace as he started on another. "No one cares what I do. As long as I full fill my duties." His tone was bitter and he stared at the fire shoving the shoe deeper into the flame. He shook his head slightly, as if shaking himself out of a trance "Besides which, you know what Geoff's going to say."  
  
"What he always says." She said offhand pulling herself onto a ledge. "You're going to catch a cold." They said in unison.  
  
"Honestly Eliza I wish that you would just listen to the man. He is right."  
  
"I know, but there's nothing wrong with living a little." She said innocently, looking at him with doe eyes. He glared at her. She was truly a beauty with her wide almond shaped eyes, sumptuous lips and cute nose. She had a heart shaped face and ivory skin.  
  
"Don't assume those innocent airs with me, I'm not your father." He said.  
  
"And don't think that you can push me around because you're older."  
  
"I don't think that I can push you around because I'm older. I know I can because I'm wiser and faster." He replied.  
  
"Ha, ha." She replied dryly and he grinned. Kate walked up to him and smiled warmly.  
  
"How are those shoes coming." He gestured at the pile with his tongs and she glanced over at the pile. "Good, I think you better than I am."  
  
"I try." He replied grinning going back to his work. She rolled her eyes and looked at Eliza. Her smile faded into a frown.  
  
"Have you been riding in the rain again?" she asked crossly.  
  
"Well it's raining and I'm wet. What do you think?"  
  
"I think that your father would want to have a word with you young lady." She said firmly, before her scowl melted into a grin.  
  
"Yes I think he would." Said William walking up to them. "Hello daughter."  
  
"Hello father." She replied, not nearly as cocky as she was with Kate and Conor.  
  
"Go change into dry clothes. Now." he said firmly.  
  
"Yes, father." And she turned and went to the house. 


	3. Help from a silent heart

Eliza sat at her vanity that night, brushing her still slightly damp hair. Her thick, curly, hair was slung over her shoulder as she brushed it absently staring at her reflection. Marriage. Her mother had had told her that she had to start considering a husband. As a result she had to go tournament with her father. Not even watch him joust, but to put herself out there. She didn't want to get married. She didn't like the idea that she had to sell herself to a man that knew nothing about her. She had tried to explain this to her father, but he still thought that all she had to do is find the right man. She was now entertaining the thought of joining a nunnery. The only person she had told this to was Conor, and even he had fought down a hearty laugh.  
  
"Are you busy?" called her mother. Glancing up in the mirror she saw her mother enter her room. "Need you my help."  
  
"No mum, I'm fine." She said. Resuming brushing her hair more vigorously. Jocelyn walked up to her daughter and smiled at her.  
  
"Excited about tomorrow?" she asked.  
  
"Not really. I'd rather be at confession." Jocelyn laughed at that. She took the brush out of Eliza's hand and started brushing her hair.  
  
"I know the feeling. I didn't want to be put on display like meat in a butcher's window. But it is rather exciting once you find someone to root for." Eliza forced a smile as her mother braided her hair. "I know that it's not anything now but you'll see. It'll be all right dear." She said as she finished, and leaned down to kiss her head. She smiled at her in the mirror. Still Eliza's mind was not eased, as she watched her mother light a few of the multitude of candles in her room. She needed more than her parent's words. They were supposed to say those things. How was she to know whether or not they were right. After all, their experience could only be applicable to their life, right? She waited until her mother had left and then she slipped on her overcoat and, grabbing a candle, made her way down to the stables. Conor was there as she knew he would be, still hammering away at horseshoes with as much vigor as this morning. He glanced up at her and frowned slightly.  
  
"Shouldn't you be in bed by now lady?" he asked, shoving a horseshoe into the by now well-used bucket of water and then throwing it into a new pile of horseshoes.  
  
"Yes but I couldn't sleep." She said walking up to him and pulling herself onto a ledge. "I've been troubled."  
  
"By what?"  
  
"My father says that I should be considering marriage by now."  
  
"Aren't you?"  
  
"No, I'm not. I don't want to go out parading my body for some block headed colt who want nothing out of me but children and food when he comes home, and a pat on the back whether he's done a good job or not."  
  
"You're afraid you won't make a good wife." Ethan said smiling gently as he pounded away. Eliza stared at him in amazement.  
  
"How do you do that?" she asked.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Just pick my brain and read my mind and heart with out me saying more than two sentences."  
  
"Well with all due respect Lady, this isn't the first time you've come down here begging for advice. Although I have yet to understand why you're coming to me. After awhile you learn to read between the fodder."  
  
"Well you know how opinionated I am! I love the joust, not for the popularity or the men but for the sport itself! I'm obnoxious and stubborn. I'm horrible!"  
  
"Yes but you are also beautiful, smart, funny, sarcastic-"  
  
"A damn nuisance. You've said it dozens of times."  
  
"Yes but that's not the point. Do you honestly expect to be a real person without having any flaws? You're real Eliza. The fact that you're opinionated means that you will debate something and that can be refreshing after a day with the mindless masses. You are fun to be around. Well most of the time anyway.. But that's not the point. You have a lot of good qualities and if you show them as well as a little of your bad you'll be fine. You don't have to change who you are to be accepted. At least you shouldn't have to. Besides your father would never agree to let some scurvy cur marry you without your willing consent. He loves you Eliza. You have nothing to be afraid or ashamed of." Conor said as he threw another finished shoe into the rapidly growing pile. He glanced at her and saw that she was staring at him. A smile worked its way onto her face brightening her features.  
  
"Thank you Conor." She whispered. Then she jumped down from the ledge and grabbed her candle. "Good night." She said and then turned and walked back to her room.  
  
"Good night." Conor whispered as he watched her go. His heart raced and his face flushed as he went back to his work. To think that she would even think of herself as anything but beautiful was a shock to him. Every day he would see her face in the flames of the furnace that he worked over daily, and every night she would float behind his eyelids. It was foolish to feel anything but fondness for her he knew, oh did he know all to well, but it had always been too late for him. So he kept his peace and pounded horseshoes and packed and saddled Sir William's horses. It was all he could do. 


	4. Pre Tournament anxiety

Eliza's eyes flew open and she shot up in bed. Her maid, Nicole who was already dressed, was taking out her dress. She glanced at her and smiled. Eliza moaned and rolled off of her bed. She hit the ground hard and then got to her feet.  
  
"I was about to wake you up." Nicole said. Eliza trudged over to her bathroom, stripped and climbed into her bath. The steamy water slid up to her neck and she sighed. It felt heavenly. Minutes passed and soon it was time for her to get dressed. She stepped out dried off and slipped on her robe. She walked over to her bed and put on her undergarments and then her dress. It was dark yellow and dark blue, lined with gold with a low neck and wide bell sleeves. She sat at her vanity and Nicole did her hair as she put on her necklace. Her hair was brushed and Nicole picked up an impossibly long golden ribbon, and proceeded to wind it around Eliza's hair. She took some gold paint and applied it by Eliza's eyes and she was done. She stepped into her shoe and walked down stairs to the dining room. Her mother and father were already seated, along with Kate, Roland, Chaucer and Wat. They glanced up as she walked in. She gasped in surprised delight. When had they gotten back?  
  
"Uncle Geoff! Uncle Wat!" she cried. They grinned and rose from their seat as she ran over to them. "When did you get here!"  
  
"Just last night." Wat said smiling.  
  
"And you father! Wicked man you didn't wake me up!" she scolded. As she jumped into Wat's arms, squeezing him tightly.  
  
"I didn't want to wake you, I thought that it would be a nice little surprise." William said grinning.  
  
"Little surprise!" she exclaimed embracing Chaucer as well.  
  
"I just finished the-"Conor started walking into the room. He paused seeing the two new faces. "Geoffrey! Wat!" he cried.  
  
"Conor, my boy!" Wat cried walking up to him and embracing him warmly.  
  
"How are you lad?" Chaucer said walking up to him and clapping him on the back heartily.  
  
"As well as you look." Conor replied.  
  
"Oh, Conor what's wrong?" Kate said with fake concern. Chaucer glared at her, but kept his peace and the room erupted into laughter. Conor's laughter faded into a shocked expression as his eyes fell on Eliza.  
  
"Eliza." He said.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"You look like a girl." He said in amazement.  
  
"That's what I am half-wit."  
  
"Yeah but you look it!" he said, then after a moments pause, "Wench."  
  
"Ooooh I should-" she started.  
  
"What I think Conor meant was that you look like a lady." Roland said. "Isn't that right Conor?" he stared at him pointedly.  
  
"Once again Roland you've read my mind." Conor said grinning. "That horses are ready Sir William." He said to William.  
  
"Thank you Conor." William said grinning at the boy. Conor bowed out and walked down the hall. Eliza followed him with her eyes and then glanced down at herself.  
  
"I feel silly in this thing." She said as she fiddled with her skirt.  
  
"Nonsense. You look lovely." Said Chaucer.  
  
" Do I really? I feel like a doll. A cheap doll."  
  
"Well you don't look it and that's the important thing right?" Kate said, "Come on, sit down and eat your breakfast." Eliza complied and started on her peaches, her stomach in knots. She could wait for the tournament. 


	5. tournament

It was more exciting than she was expecting. She sat in the stands next to her father, watching as two knights rode toward each other at break neck speed, tension building in her body with the horses every stride, reaching a apex two seconds before collision and then shattering like the lances on armor. Her eyes wide with excitement a smile exploded onto her face as a flag went up for each and they rode back to the start. She glanced over at Chaucer and then down at Conor who was standing on the ground leaning on the fence his face graced with soft concentration, completely involved with the sport. She looked back over at Chaucer and he smiled at her.  
  
"Are you enjoying it?" he asked,  
  
"Immensely." She replied, "It's so exciting, the tension is palpable." Her eyes fell on a knight in black armor, perched on an ebony stallion. "Who is he?" she asked Chaucer.  
  
"That is Sir Ted Dakar, a Count of Werkly." He replied.  
  
"He's very good." She said.  
  
"Yes, he has perfect technique." William commented. "Although his face evades me."  
  
"I've never seen him, but he is rumored to be a favorite among the ladies." Geoff said, William glared at him, "Which is hardly the point."  
  
"Hush! They're riding again!" Eliza cried leaning forward in her seat staring down the knight as he plowed forward lance aimed and ready. The two knights collided with an explosion of wood and noise and the opponent's helmet dashed against the dirt ground. Two white flags rose for Ted Dakar and one for his opponent. Eliza fought down a scream of glee and clasped her hands in her lap, a huge grin on her face. Her gaze flew up her knight as he removed his helmet, a look of satisfaction on his face. He had cobalt blue eyes, brown hair that reached his jawbone, and chiseled features. He was gorgeous; she couldn't tear her eyes away from his face. Broad shoulders strong arms…. she was absolutely taken with him. She watched as he walked up to claim his prize a smirk on his face, his eyes looked through the crowd and found hers. Her eyes widened and her ears burned but she couldn't look away. Her heart thundered in her chest as he nodded at her his smile widening and then turned on his heel and walked away. Eliza felt like she would faint. Geoff stared at her, grinning. He had seen that look before.  
  
"Does he tickle your fancy young one?" he whispered into her ear teasingly. Eliza jerked herself out of her trance, turning to stare at him defiantly.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about." She replied rising to her feet and following her father out of the stands, Chaucer walking behind them smiling. She knew exactly what he was talking about. He knew that face far to well for the look in her eyes to be anything but young love. 


	6. When wicked knees attack!

Eliza rode beside Conor silently. Her father and Geoff had had some business to attend to in town so he had sent her home with Conor. So far they rode together in silence. She glanced at his grim profile. She didn't know why he looked so sad sometimes, and today Conor had barely glanced at her for half the ride. She couldn't read his thoughts like he could read hers. Sometimes he seemed strangely happy. At times he would be fun and lighthearted witty in a good- natured way and then others his eyes would cloud over and his witty words would cut and he would be silent and reserved and drawn. Almost as if he were two completely different people. He confused her. But Ted Dakar.. Sir Ted Dakar. Ted. Sir Dakar. She rolled the name around in her mind, pictured his face in her head. Brown hair, strong jaw, blue eyes, and broad shoulders. He had the most remarkable blue eyes, and when he had looked at her. "Did you enjoy the joust today?" Conor asked suddenly. "What?" she asked, his deep voice jerking her out of her reverie. "The joust, did you enjoy it?" he repeated. "Very much so." "You like Sir Ted don't you?" he said bluntly. Her head jerked in his direction, her eyes wide and he smiled knowing that he had read her mind. Really, she was too easy. "What?" she asked. "Judging by your reaction, I'm assuming that you heard me." He replied "I don't know what could have led you to such a conclusion." Her cheeks flamed, 'How could he have known?' she thought in shock. "The fact that you were staring at him the whole time." He replied glancing at her. "And don't even try to deny it." He added at her expression. "You are making me sound like a gaping fool!" she exclaimed. "I only make you sound like what you looked like. If you sound like a gaping fool then you probably looked it. It's not my fault and hardly my problem." "I should have you beaten!" she exclaimed. " You're probably right but you won't so, don't make promises you can't keep." He replied lightly. She glared at his tranquil expression and huffed. She hated it when he was always right. "He asked about you." He said after a while. "He didn't!!" she exclaimed excitedly. "No he didn't, but you just proved my previous accusations to be true." He said now full out laughing. "You little leach!!" she cried, punching him in the shoulder as hard as she could. He cried out in pain and then took off, riding as fast as he could. She switched her sidesaddle position to a straddle one and then took off after him. She chased him all the way home, catching up with him at times before he glanced behind him and sped up his pace. He was a magnificent rider. She knew that he could handle a horse like a kindred spirit, and that he could ride well but he was exceptional. They rode into the stables, Eliza forgetting getting a few strange glances since she was straddling the horse and not riding sidesaddle. Conor leapt from his steed and started running into the courtyard. Eliza leapt off after him and followed, picking up her skirts and running like the wind. He sped into the garden with her hot on his heels. She sped up, finally catching up with him and tackled him into the grass. He hit the ground with a thud and she landed on top of him and they rolled around in the grass trying to pin the other onto the ground. Finally he gained the upper hand, her incredible strength making it difficult to do so, and still she squirmed, not willing to admit defeat even though her hands were pinned above her head and his body had plastered her's to the soft grass. "Surrender!" he cried laughing. "Never!" she cried, trying to buck him off of her. "I'm going to kill you, you bloody brute!" she gasped. "Oh that's nice, I'm sure you father would love to have heard you say that." He said and he started to tickle her. "NO! Please don't!" she gasped screaming out for all she was worth, struggling harder. He grinned at her futile attempts to escape and was considering letting her up easy when she kneed him in the groin with all her strength. His eyes crossed and his lips parted in a silent scream as he rolled off of her, struggling to breathe. He didn't scream but he bit his lip so hard he drew blood. She grinned and scrambled to her feet watching as he rolled about in agony, and wondered briefly if she had gotten him a little to hard. Conor pushed himself up onto his knees and braced himself on his hands, flashes of agony attacking his body. "Conor? Are you alright?" Eliza asked walking up to him. He didn't reply. "Conor?" "Well what's your guess?" he managed to groan out as he struggled to his feet. "Well um." "Mmmhmm" he mumbled glancing at her through squinted eyes. "Well you don't look to good." "Do I now? Well would you look at that? Who would have guessed that I would be in pain because your foot had a ruddy muscle spasm!!" he snapped sarcastically and started to limp away. "I'm sorry." She said. "I'm glad for you." He shot back. She stared at his retreating back and tilted her head to one side then ran up to him. "You were on top of me, tickling me and I couldn't stop you what was I supposed to do? You know how ticklish I am!" she protested. "There is no logical excuse for doing that to a person especially a man." He replied glancing at her "I truly am sorry Conor." He stopped hobbling gesturing wildly for her to be quiet and turned to face her. "For some odd reason that I just can't place, you being 'truly sorry' does not give me one bit of bloody consolation whatsoever, so forgive me if I don't seem placated by your expressions of remorse but I still have one wicked pain in my more sensitive regions thanks to your confounded knee! I think you broke the goddamned thing!!" he cried. "I'm sorry!" "Oh for god sakes save your damn 'sorry's' for someone who can actually use them for they aren't doing me a bit of good." He said starting back his trek towards the stables. "Don't be angry with me, I didn't mean to get you that hard I swear it." She insisted. He simply glared at her and started away. Eliza sighed and stared at his retreating back. He wasn't going to talk to her for at least a week. 


End file.
